


I'm A Hero (for you)

by unfortunate17



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Army AU, M/M, because i love them, liam has to set a bomb, need to use their words man, pretty boys that like eachother, zayn doesn't want him to be a hero, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunate17/pseuds/unfortunate17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: in which zayn and liam are deployed in Afghanistan with a frightening mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm A Hero (for you)

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW this doesn't have any Caps. Don't give me grief about it :P

**_10-_ **

liam first sees zayn malik at the train station as he’s saying goodbye to everything and everyone he knows.

his mother looks mournful as she straightens his uniform (she presses a hand to his cheeks and tells him for the umpteen time that  _you don’t have to do this liam_ ) but his father beams at him with pride in his own outdated marine suit and liam turns his head to catch the eyes of a man that looks more like a model than the sergeant he supposedly is.

the boy, (definitely  _boy_ and not  _man_ \- just like liam), has his arms full of three black-haired girls with his parents standing by, eyes misty.

(liam notes the lack of uniform for the both of them)

(he also notes that whoever the boy is - liam really wants to -  _yeah_.)

**_9-_ **

liam first meets (sergeant) zayn malik at boot-camp as he’s relearning everything and everyone he knows.

zayn has been clutching his freshly shaved head, mourning the last remains of his hair - the army had insisted it be shaved and he obviously wasn’t taking it too well. (liam was secretly mourning it as well - he’d always wanted to push his hands into the immaculate quiff and  _tug_ at several inappropriate situations he’d imagined late in the shame of his own bunk).  nevertheless, he chuckles amusedly at zayn’s distress (there’s something comical about that high, aristocratic bone structure as it squeals in embarrassment).

zayn whirls to face him, eyes narrowed, “see something funny, mate?” his tone is threatening in a sort of i-dare-you-to-say-something way but liam can’t find himself to focus on anything more than his eyes, deep-set under elegant eyebrows and that high, aristocratic bone structure aimed at him (not comical in the slightest).

"I-well, no it’s just that. nothing. yeah. it’s nothing - at all."

and he’s also apparently lost the ability to speak english (that or he’s managed to swallow his tongue - he doesn’t really know which one - he can’t feel much beyond _idiot_  under zayn’s gaze).

and now it’s zayn’s turn to look amused as he steps closer to lay a hand on liam’s shoulder and liam nearly flinches because  _fucking christ_ , sergeant malik is endlessly gorgeous this close up.

"hey," he says and his eyes turn impossibly kind (liam can see flecks of green and gold), "it’s cool - don’t worry."

liam nods blindly, then realizes he’s acting like a disrespectful idiot to an officer of a higher class and distinction, so he forces his feet together and his right arm into a salute, “sergeant,” he nods curtly (he thinks he must look quite foolish)

zayn stares at him for a moment and bursts into laughter (liam doesn’t like to admit it - but he’s sure he’s a hundred different shades of red at the moment - and he now feels foolish). “ _jesus christ_ ,” zayn is saying, eyes alight with amusement, “i’m zayn. just zayn.”

liam flushes darker (if that’s even humanely possible) and zayn’s eyes follow the movement,  _tracing,_  “i’m liam,” he mutters, “liam payne.”

zayn smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners (liam wonders if he has the dimples in his back to match), “hullo there liam payne,” he drops his voice, “will you please be the one to explain to me why these damn people insist on shaving my head _every single fucking year?_ ”

and liam laughs lightly and says something about protocol and zayn grins blindingly up at him. “looks good on you,” he says quietly.

and liam’s world  _explodes._

**_8-_ **

"why’d you join?"

liam falls to the ground, exhausted after their ten-mile-with-weights-for-relaxation-hike (relaxation his  _arse_ ),”what?” he pants (he’s tired and the way his brain fuzzes when zayn speaks is honestly really, really distracting).

zayn unscrews his water-bottle to take a large mouthful, “the army. why’d you join?” he asks again, after swallowing down the water.   
liam shrugs, chest still heaving (he doesn’t know it’s a reaction to the run or -), “seemed like the right thing to do.” he waits for a beat then looks to find zayn’s eyes trained on him. “what?” he asks, self-conscious.

zayn shakes his head, bemused. “nothing.”

liam hesitates, remembering zayn’s parents and their lack of uniform, “why’re you here?”

zayn raises an elegant eyebrow in response, “seemed like the right thing to do.”

**_7-_ **

_"afghanistan."_

liam’s whole life changes with the word and he’s out behind the barracks that night (making sense of everything and everyone he knows), pressing his fists into his mouth from screaming into the night air. he doesn’t know if he’s  _fucking terrified_  or not - he can’t comprehend much right now because  _afghanistan._

a branch cracks over his left shoulder.

"hey,"

it’s zayn.

 and liam sighs heavily, trying to mask his face into one of nonchalance but zayn bumps his shoulder with his own before his eyes critically rove liam’s face, “it’s ok if you’re scared, mate.”

liam swallows and shakes his head furiously, ” ‘m not scared.”

zayn laughs softly. “i was scared shitless,” he admits quietly, “the first time i mean.” he wraps an arm around liam’s shoulders and liam bites his lips.   
“what’s it like?” he asks, at last, shooting a fleeting look at zayn from under his eyelashes, “you know, when you’re out there.”

zayn squints into the night and his eyebrows burrow together for a moment, “like nothing you’ve ever seen before.” he shrugs, smoothing his expression, “dunno how to describe it really - suppose you’ll see for yourself, yeah.” he turns to catch liam’s eyes after a brief moment of silence, “you’ll be ok though.”

liam shudders in response and feels zayn rub his shoulders in supposed comfort (it doesn’t really help - in fact liam actually thinks his nerves might sort of be on fire).

zayn sighs, “i’m actually still terrified - but i don’t want to find you telling anybody that.”

liam cracks a smile.

zayn pulls him closer (liam couldn’t talk if he wanted to), “but not for myself.”

**_6-_ **

**_5-_ **

afghanistan, as he finds out, is hot and arid and deserted - so hot that liam feels the sweat pool under his required collar and hat as the sun beats mercilessly down on them while they ready their guns and tanks in the staccato firing in the space around them. the first sergeant, heading their squadron as a whole, had bossed zayn (the only sergeant in a group of corporals) into making detailed attack plans for a facility rumored to be run by a local terrorist group.  _storing weapons, explosives, and attack plans_  they said - so the men best be prepared to get rid of the whole building in case they decided to make a return.

liam’s ordered to set charges throughout the building while the rest of the men make a sweep of the location to clear it of any hidden hostiles and important information of future attacks.

(but what scares liam more than anything is the front door that happens to be the only exit from the large facility and that he’s only got  _ten minutes_  tops to get out before his own explosives blow him sky-high).

**_4-_ **

**_3-_ **

zayn’s hair begins to grow back and no matter how the first sergeant pleads or how good at following orders zayn usually is (he’s shit at it actually), he refuses to cut the shaggy locks. it’s almost worse than the quiff because now zayn looks all soft and young and classically handsome and yes, it’s settled, liam wants to do inappropriate things to his sergeant in command, but he doubts that the army barracks in afghanistan is the right place to do it (or whether there’s a right place at all for that matter).

it’s also probably the wrong time to do it because their attack on the facility is - hell -   _tomorrow._ it’s liam’s first major field assignment aside from small scrimmages - it’s also his first field assignment with zayn. (he wonders whether or not that might affect his concentration.)

a branch cracks over his right shoulder.

"hey," it’s zayn ( _who else_?)

liam turns over his shoulder to shoot him a smile, “hi.”

zayn sighs heavily and flops down on the sand next to him (liam feels warm all over), “tomorrow,” he begins, then hesitates.

liam lays back uneasily at zayn’s strange tone (he can’t quite place it and that scares him - he can place  _everything_ about zayn, no matter how creepy that sounds) but zayn fixes him with a harsh look.

"no playing hero, yeah?"

liam scowls, because, “i’m not trying to play hero.”

but zayn looks dead serious (with a hint of hysteria layered in his eyes), “i’m serious, liam, you can’t,” he stops, frustrated, running a hand through his hair, “ _christ,_  you’ve got to understand that sometimes, you can’t save everyone.”

liam averts his eyes, “you mean-“

"people are going to die out there tomorrow," zayn whispers furiously, "the fuses are too short and the evacuation’s too slow."

he frowns, “can’t we just set longer fuses?”

zayn smiles sardonically, “i wish, but we’re using Nitronome bombs - best for taking out large, fortified areas.” he bites his bottom lip, “unfortunately, the fuse time is really short.”

liam nods numbly (because  _god_  - first mission and dead bodies hadn’t really come together in his mind).  

zayn lies down next to him, pressing closer (liam’s head rushes), “don’t,” liam can hear him swallow, “fuck, liam,  _please,_  don’t play hero. first chance you get - you get  _out_. promise me.”

there’s a long moment of silence while liam debates, and finally, he turns to face zayn, eyes earnest (and a tad bit hopeful for all sorts of reasons), “only if you promise back.”

he tangles their legs together and liam wonders whether zayn can hear his heartbeat  _boom_  through his chest the way it feels like it is in his ear.

"promise."

**_2-_ **

the next morning, the wake up call sounds at four-thirty in the morning and liam, zayn, and half a dozen others are suited up and fitted with guns (liam with an extra string of explosives thrown in his bag) and made to line up in front of the carrier that’ll take them down to the facility before sunrise ( _surpise is the key_ , liam had been told). It’s a short drive - only about three miles and while they’d usually hike, they need to be in and out as fast as possible.

the first sergeant eyes them with a strange emotion blotting his face (liam doesn’t like it - it makes him feel uneasy and think of bullet wounds and tombstones), “you’re a fine bunch of lads,” he says finally before tipping a curt nod to zayn (the only sergeant in a field of corporals) and disappearing back in the barracks. (and that  _really_  doesn’t help liam’s confidence because the first sergeant is  _never_ half-decent to anyone of lower rank).

liam is actually one of the last to get on the carrier - the only exception being zayn, who stops him with a fist at the back of his uniform and presses him into the side of the carrier and drops his head onto liam’s collarbone.

"you," he says, voice muffled, hair tickling liam’s chin, "after this is over -" he curls his fingers around liam’s right hand and liam squeezes back gently, the words going unspoken.

"ok," he mutters into zayn’s hair and finds the courage to press his mouth into the surprisingly decent smell of incense (liam doesn’t want to think about himself in that context - what with the heat).

zayn makes a choked sound but manages a nod, fingers brushing over liam’s sides as he slides away.

"remember what you told me."

liam smiles, “promise.”

**_1-_ **

except there’s a delay.

 a volley of gunfire hit them as soon as the team begins to press into the building ( _we were expected_ , liam thinks dimly), smothering the air with thick smoke and fierce shouting. liam can feel the blood diffusing through is ears at the staccato gunshots and carefully slips away to set fuses. (he also can’t find zayn anywhere).

the flooring of the two-story facility is cracked and decayed to an extreme and liam has to focus on not falling through the floor while he sets, wires, and times the explosives carefully - eight on the first floor and seven on the second.

once he’s finished, he taps the receiver in his ears, his last connection back to base and promises, and after a brief fizzle, liam begins to speak, “corporal liam payne says charges are set and wired.”

there’s more crackling and after a short moment, the first sergeant’s voice filters through, “squadron 1 - charges set. move out.”

and just as liam begins to jog carefully back down the stairs - the back wall of the building, about twenty feet behind him,  _blows_  into tiny shards of piercing metal.

in the confusion that follows, as both the hostiles and his fellow squadron members attempt to make sense of the rogue explosion, liam is caught on the stairs, alone, as both the second floor and staircase, catch alight. (he  _knew_ he should have become a fireman).

"liam?"  

liam turns gratefully to the sound of his name from somewhere below the screen of smoke - presumably the ground floor as the flames and fumes begin to lick dangerously closer. he coughs, trying to clear his lungs. (it smells like diesel and petrol - and liam thinks it might have been a stray bullet to a container of gas)

"liam!"

he takes a deep breath in an attempt to shout back (because isn’t that  _zayn_ ) but his chest quickly fills with the suffocating heat and thick smoke - and liam is choking all over again, this time partly from fear licking at his stomach. and just as he manages to make a hoarse sound, his voice is drowned by more shouting from both around him and in his earpiece.

"get out of the fucking building."  
“squadron 1 - evacuation  _needs_ to be complete by now.”

"fucking hell  - we’ve got about a  _minute and a half, lads._ ”

so liam stumbles back up upwards,  _towards_  his explosives because there’s no way he’s going to make it back down the burning set of stairs to the front entrance. by now the back wall is  _blazing_  but luckily, large chunks of the already decaying building are falling through and liam manages to wedge himself in an opening in the wall on the second floor.

 _fuck,_  he thinks - he really wants to  _live_ because he can’t die now. not when - not when zayn’s promised him things after (he doesn’t really know what those things are, but liam sure as hell wants to find out).

_" you, after this is over-"_

liam shoves harder against the wreckage (hissing as he feels a hot burn across his right arm- the fire was getting ominously closer), finally, fucking  _finally_ managing to fall, feet first from a burning, two story building.

**_0-_ **

liam doesn’t remember the explosion, only having time to drag himself (twisted left ankle he thinks, faintly - and burned right arm) a few meters and press into a small sand dune before the whole building behind him  _explodes_  into bright, jarring pieces of lethal fragments.

(he think about the first time he met zayn.)

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

**_.._ **

when liam ultimately comes back into himself, it’s dark out but he’s still pressed awkwardly, face-first, into the sand dune, and he heaves over onto his back, coughing up stray smoke and sand. he sits up carefully, eyes roving the landscape for any signs of life.

nothing.

absolutely nothing.

it’s completely deserted.

liam’s stomach twists sharply at the empty sight, because  _zayn_ and  _where is he?_ and  _did he even make it out?_

and something in him is breaking, shattering because the thought of zayn being dead - of lowering sergeant zayn malik’s body into a wooden crate to be shipped back home is  _sickening._ and fuck him, all liam can think about is what might have - could have - happened.

he swallows thickly because  _maybe the army barracks in afghanistan was the perfect place after all._

liam manages to limp to his feet and is just getting to the  _what the fuck do i do now?_ part in his brain, when a faint buzzing fills his ears.

and - oh - liam had not expected that to survive the blast (he’d honestly forgotten about the earpiece completely in the face of  _zayn_ ).

 _zayn_.

he clears his throat. “hello,” he says hoarsely, throat parched from debris, “is anybody there?”

and it’s a long shot - a fucking basket in the dark, but, then,

“ _corporal payne?”_  the voice sounds incredulous.

"sergeant," liam replies (even while he’s desperately hoping for another sergeant), "i’m outside the blown facility."

there’s a moment of silence on the other end, “we thought you were dead.”

liam clears his throat again (he desperately wishes for water), “well ‘m not,” he mumbles, a bit deliriously  - and  _christ_ that reminds him, “who is though?”

there’s some shuffling on the other end, “excuse me?”

liam sighs, “who’s dead?”

"a few," the sergeant says vaguely. "listen, corporal, why don’t you get back - and we’ll talk more then, yeah?"

liam opens his mouth to protest because, “just tell me.”

the sergeant’s voice cracks (over the intercom or in reality, liam doesn’t know), “your batteries are going out - just get back.”

just as he says it, there’s a loud beep of warning in liam’s ears - the sound of a dying battery and liam frowns because, “how am i supposed to do that?”(and _please, please let zayn be ok - because he’s fucking promised._ )

the sergeant’s voice hardens and the man behind liam’s exceedingly difficult boot-camp drills returns, “the fuck payne  - we took you there this morning. and if you can’t remember how to get back to base from a three mile distance maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

liam doesn’t admit it, but it stings (he’s turned into an over-emotional thirteen-year-old). “i’ll be there in an hour,” he mutters, thinking of his poor left ankle and burned arm.

the sergeant growls, “damn right you will.”

**..**

**..**

**..**

**..**

**..**

he’s been walking for about twenty minutes and he still doesn’t know what happened to zayn.

_" you, after this is over-"_

he swallows back the strange fist in his throat because he doesn’t really  _know_ does he - zayn is probably safe, back at the barracks, waiting anxiously for liam to return, refusing to believe that liam is really  _dead_ (and he’s not, damnit, and liam wants him to be waiting).  so there really isn’t anything to worry about is there?

_"promise."_

nothing to worry about at all, really.

liam blankets himself into the cool night and quickens his movements, feet pressing deep into the sand with every step , eyes hazy with hope and the thought of  _zayn_  and the  _something_ that might happen after all  _this._

**..**

**..**

**..**

**..**

**..**

**Author's Note:**

> There's some weird glitch in my inbox idk. I can't reply to your comments without it being weird. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I SEE YOUR COMMENTS AND I REALLY APPRECIATE THEM AND I WANT TO REPLY but I'm not able to right now?? But really, thank you so much for reading <3


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